


Patient Observations

by nyxxbx



Series: Bel'annar'is [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Haven (Dragon Age), Pre-Relationship, The Fade, Vallaslin (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxxbx/pseuds/nyxxbx
Summary: Solas' curiosity grows as he observes the prisoner carrying his magic within the palm of her hand.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan & Solas
Series: Bel'annar'is [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733095
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Patient Observations

"Is she stable, for now?" Cassandra's voice questioned the healer, piercing eyes narrowed, her entire stance threatening and domineering. 

The elf beside her stared at the crumpled form on the cot, dark iron-coloured, stone floor beneath her a contrast to her pale skin and glistening forehead. His hands were behind him, his jaw tightened as his eyes lingered on the features of her face. 

"I don't know, Lady Seeker," the healer confessed, bowing slightly, "her fever has gotten worse and that.. _thing_ on her hand keeps glowing." The man said, obviously still shaken and frightened from the cataclysm around them.

Solas had to stop his eyes from rolling, instead his hands, hidden from view in the dark dungeon, tightened as he listened to the healer's words. Of course, none of the mortals surrounding him would ever understand what that thing on her hand was meant to do. None of them understood how bland their world had become, how disturbingly monotone. It had shaken the exhausted elf to his very core. Everyone around him was so painfully different, and that hurt in his sealed heart was what kept the anguish from before, from the past so long ago, fresh and still bleeding, burning. 

"Solas, what do you think? You said you could give us some insight on this whole tragedy." He hadn't even realised the Seeker and the healer were staring at him. 

Straightening his posture, he tore his gaze away from the mark on the captive's hand. "I believe she doesn't have long with the Breach expanding. The more it expands, the more threat we all face. This magic is spreading through her body, consuming it and unless we somehow stop it, she will die."

"How do you know that? You haven't even properly examined her! Lady Seeker-", the healer protested, hands thrown in the air in exasperation. 

Cassandra raised her hand to stop the healer, desperation and hidden fear burning in her gaze, doubt clouding her. "Enough. Is there anything you can do to help her, Solas?"

"I will search the Fade for answers," _not quite the truth, but not a lie either,_ "and I will try my best." He nodded to the Seeker and she pursed her lips, letting out a long breath.

"Very well. I better see some answers soon, apostate," an empty threat, one he took notice of immediately, "for all our sakes."

A bitter laugh almost escaped him. Cassandra left him alone with the prisoner, the healer handing him his notes begrudgingly and leaving too. Solas could feel his sneer even as he left. Grabbing the stool next to the prisoner's cot, he sat down, shifting until he felt somewhat comfortable on the sturdy surface, feeling a shiver run through him from the dampness of the dungeon. He still hadn't gotten used to the sensations of the cold weather. 

He flipped through the pages, eyes skillfully roaming the scribbled words of the healer.

_Day One._

_Clammy. Shallow breathing. Pulse over-fast. Not responsive. Pupils dilated. I heard the elf mage mention this was unkown magic. We should station a templar in here, just in case._

Solas let himself scoff, once again, eyes crinkling at the mention of templars. Of course, they would be fearful of what thry could never hope to understand.

His further reading was stopped by a whimper, the woman beneath him shifting in her restless sleep, her lashes thrumming against her _vallaslin_ carved cheekbones. His face crinkled at the blood carvings, realising that the elven orb, the magic of the Breach, the power lashing through the Fade, a place he knew like he knew the twisting paths of Arlathan, was bestowed upon a _Dalish_ , people who had degraded him and mocked his advice so many times. People who celebrated the shackles of slavery and fumed with pride for it. 

Beneath the _Falon'din_ carving, the Dalish's eyes glowed with an emerald shimmer, and he could hear the Breach outside moving, shifting. The Mark upon her hand glistened, growled and her lips twisted in pain as she let out another whimper, mouth mumbling incoherent words. 

" _Dirth- Ir.. abelas- Ir.._ " he could hear her mutterings of sorrow and for a moment his hardened resolve softened at the fragile elvhen words. 

Grasping her wrist, he could feel his own silvery orbs glisten as he nourished the magic within her, and like a child, the elf beneath him was silenced. He gazed at her features, seeing nothing but her marred, marked face, the faded blue accentuated by the fading viridescent shimmer under her lids. For a moment, he felt the curiosity from within him, hidden away, grow, wanting to see the colour of her eyes, the way she spoke, moved, to know whether his suspicions of her origins were correct or not.

As he felt her breathing grow from shallow and broken to steady and deep, a positive reminder this meant she had finally begun her journey through the Fade, he knew he could find out before anyone else. 

That low ember of curiosity was growing, and he couldn't help himself.

He awoke in a forest, deep, lush richness of the trees maintaining a heady scent in the air, one he realised seemed quite familiar. Turning around elegantly, he realised he could see a small billow of smoke arising in the distance and once again his suspicions were correct. The prisoner was dreaming of her clan. How special. 

He heard a shuffle from behind him and instinctively, his feet moved, slowly, quietly, and he felt suddenly much lighter than usual. His hidden nature was clawing at his polite and calm posture, desperate to be let out. And like a hunter, he headed towards the shuffle, coordinated, swift moves shifting through the wilderness, eyes alert and a burning glint hidden within them. As he neared closer to the intrusion, he suddenly spotted her, wrapped in a memory, coursing through the trees with adamant swiftness, mocking yells heard from behind her.

This surprised him. Inquisitively, he proceeded to grow closer, though always far enough not to be spotted. 

" _Din'las, Din'las.."_ the voices mocked and he could see the pale-haired elf tighten her jaw, eyes narrowed, fists clenched, tears kept at bay by sheer strength. 

She itched at her _vallaslin_ , letting out a choked sob as she moved towards one of the trees. There, with slumped shoulders, she slid down and hugged her knees to herself, piercing golden eyes staring straight ahead. 

Solas gazed, feeling like an animal stalking his prey, and yet he ignored that rush of instinctual nature rising from within him. He would not resort to that, not even with the name he had accepted. His eyes took in her features, his sneer of disgust as she rubbed her cheekbones, scratching at the wavy lines carved in honour of _Falon'din_ , Friend of the Dead. Her eyes finally closed, and she leaned her head on the tree, hand reaching up to trace the marred bark.

That's when he noticed it.

The familiar lines of _Mythal's_ presence, shaky fingers following the markings of the Protector, lush lips uttering out a prayer, no, a song. As she traced it, mouth moving in familiar whispers he hadn't heard in so long, he saw the crystals fall from her eyes, features softening from the hardened resolve they had kept, throat rising and falling as a sob pulsed beneath it. 

And that moment, he had never felt so close to a stranger from this world, this world he had deemed as a world of tranquil, nothingness, emptiness. What he was seeing wasn't that. It was pain, despair, rage, finality all wrapped in a Dalish. Could it be that his suspicions were incorrect, made out of stubborn arrogance of knowing too much? Could it be that this stranger was worthy of the Mark, the power bestowed upon her? 

His wandering mind was awakened by a soldier telling him he was needed. 

He would have to wait to find out. 

She had closed the rift with sheer determination behind her eyes, lips letting a growl as the power coursed through her hand. He didn't even have to explain it to her, she was taking it all in stride, her true feelings hidden behind a facade of confidence. Her answers were precise, with a hidden cynical tone behind it and he wondered whether the image of her clan mocking her had anything to do with the concealed bitterness.

Yet, despite not seeming to want explanations, she questioned him about the rifts, The Breach, the mark on her hand, his observations of her comatose state. Her hunger for answers was secret and he could feel it, seeing the familiarity. 

Her voice was quiet, and yet loud enough to hear, awake with noise when needed and silent when spouting remarks and comments she thought others were unaware of.

They weren't. Cassandra wore a permanent frown on her features and Varric couldn't keep in his snorts at the stranger's tone. Solas wondered whether she did it deliberately or whether she was purposely unaware of others' reactions. 

Her voice was as hard as the ironbark she traced in the dream when she responded to Chancellor Rodrick's sly insults. Solas could feel himself smirk, surprised at how suddenly she could shift from sharp and calculating to authoritative and domineering. Her dreamlike state came crashing down onto the ground as soon she would notice that she had begun losing control of the situation. It was entrancing, it peaked his curiosity. He hadn't even learned her name yet, only had the knowledge of the mocking nickname he had heard in the Fade from her memory.

The dwarf, Varric, granted him that answer, satisfying his interest.

"I'm guessing Cassandra hasn't allowed you to introduce yourself yet, what with all the yelling and scolding." Varric said, teasing and placid eyes glancing at the Seeker's narrowed glare. 

Fen'rei let out a soft laugh, chest feeling less heavy with the weight of the catastrophe around her. She was certain Varric would be the only string of sanity surrounding her in days to come.

"No, we didn't have the time for introductions, unfortunately." She tried to jest, longing to reenact the careless facade the dwarf had been keeping up. 

The tension she felt through her bones was rigid and she desperately wanted to get rid of it, to finally feel as if she could take a confident posture and not feel like it was an act.

The apostate elf behind her let out a breath and her golden eyes flickered to his, silver and bronze mixed in the orbs, unexplainably pleased to see him find her awkward responses humorous. 

"Perhaps, we should leave the introductions for later, once the Breach has been sealed." Cassandra uttered, an annoyed frown gracing her sharp features. 

"Come on, Seeker, no time like the present. We know nothing about her and she does know our names. If she is behind all this, isn't that an advantage on her end?" Varric coerced, sending a sly wink, Fen'rei's expression softening from its former defensive scowl. 

She cleared her throat, furrowing her brows, suddenly feeling self-conscious. " _Ma'melin_ Fen'rei Din'ael Lavellan.." she trailed off, momentarily distracted by the elf's, Solas', inhale of air. Shaking her head, she continued. "I was the clan's hunter.. well, when they needed a replacement.." 

Solas could not focus on the rest of her revelations. The elvhen disappearing from her throat was only the opening of surprises to come.

The mere beginning of her name, the syllables rolling of her tongue struck him, reminding him of what was at stake here. He could not believe that he was certain that she would utter his hidden name, and not her own, a foolish notion, one that he usually did not get. He glanced at her, her steady and yet cautious words blurring with the surrounding echo of the Breach expanding, pale hair glistening in the green light of the broken sky, emerald speckles of the mark hidden within the gold liquid of her eyes, the vallaslin tinged with a fading blue against her pale cheeks. He found it difficult to breathe once she glanced at him again, eyes wandering his shielded frame to see what was the issue. 

Little did he know this wouldn't be the first time she would leave him breathless. 

**Author's Note:**

> Elvhen taken from Fenxshiral's Project Elvhen!
> 
> Ir abelas - I am sorry  
> Din'las - a sort of a nickname I created that should mean 'bringer of death'   
> Ma'melin - my name


End file.
